Day in the Life
by ecv
Summary: Written for the Bonesology Challenge: Tell about the day in the life of a minor or invented character.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Written for the Bonesology Challenge: Tell a story about a day in the life of a minor character. The security guard is not someone we've met, just a character I created specifically for this story. I don't own any part of Bones._

 _This one is a little different than normal. Thanks for reading._

I have the most important job in the Jeffersonian.

You may not agree. Perhaps you are a firefighter, or a police officer. Maybe you deliver babies or teach children. You might not do these jobs in the Jeffersonian, but you feel they are just as important.

All of those are noble jobs. Each one makes the world a better place. Even if you don't work where I do.

But I still don't think it's as important as mine.

So right now, you're probably thinking, what could I do every day that is more important than the jobs I've already mentioned.

It's definitely not what you're thinking.

My job is to guard the bodies of the dead.

Now your thinking has changed. The dead don't need a guard, right? They're dead, what could they possibly need to be guarded from? You can't hurt the dead.

Of course, you can't hurt the dead. They are dead, after all. But that's why they need protection the most. The dead can't protect themselves, making my job the most important.

Because, is there anything more important than protecting those that can't protect themselves?

My day begins like most of yours, I'm sure. I get out of bed and prepare for work. The coffee maker is on a timer, so its always ready when I get to the kitchen. Sometimes my wife is there to kiss me good morning. Yesterday she was. Today, I missed her. Our kids are grown up and off living their own lives now. My wife and I married young, had our children while we were still young, so I'm probably not as old as you think.

I've been at the Jeffersonian for too many years to count. It's the perfect job. I love the hours, love what I'm doing every day. The employees there are great. I can't imagine any place I'd rather be.

I like to get there early; earlier than the rest. Which is rather difficult to do when Dr. Temperance Brennan works in the same department I work in. Some days I'm more successful at it than others. I think, now, it depends on how persistent her husband is at getting her to keep normal, or at least semi-normal hours.

The lab is quiet this morning, but it won't be for long. I like it this way. The quiet of anticipation. Of solving crimes. Of laughter and maybe tears depending on what the day brings. In a place like this, a person can never be sure what will happen. I think that's another reason why I've always loved it here.

Today, Dr. Brennan swipes in before me. Probably because there is a body on the platform waiting for her expertise. It arrived yesterday afternoon, after a particularly vicious crime that left many of my colleagues reeling in shock. I don't think I was quite as shocked as the rest of them. Part of me thinks it's because I've spent so much time on this floor, guarding the dead. I've seen the worst of what humans can do to each other and there are nights I go home and want to weep for what I've seen.

There is a grim look of determination in her eyes. It's a look I've seen often. She always wears it when she steps on to the platform. That look used to worry me because it always seemed to be there, no matter what the situation. Somewhere, in her life, she'd forgotten how to let herself be loved by others. It had bothered me for a long time. My wife and I frequently talked about it. Until Agent Booth showed up. And put love and laughter into her eyes, too.

You know how there are moments in life that are like stop signs? You can measure memories by which came before the stop and which came after? Agent Booth was a stop sign for Dr. Brennan. Her life changed so much after he started coming into the lab. I can't imagine him any other place now, other than by her side.

The man who put that look in her eyes is following closely behind her. I'm sure he is as upset as she is, and he looks it this morning. His eyes are dark, angry. They warn people to step back, to avoid him. Others might back away, but not his friends who know him well.

Agent Booth pulls the cards from his pocket and has his pen ready before his wife even has the gloves on her hand. Inside my head, I smile in amusement. There is still too much flesh on the body for Dr. Brennan. She won't be able to tell him much. It won't stop him from asking though.

Agent Booth doesn't take long to prove me correct. "What can you tell me, Bones?"

Shooting him a glance, she looks up to watch Dr. Saroyan and Ms. Montenegro join her on the platform. Dr. Hodgins joins them as well, he simply comes from a different direction.

It was tough to watch him go through the adjustment to his paralysis. There were times, when he spoke to his wife, that I wanted to knock his ass out of that wheelchair. Probably would have cost me my job, but at the time, it certainly seemed worth it. But underneath that beautiful skin, Ms. Montenegro is a tough women. Even when he wanted to give up, she wouldn't. I was so proud of them the day they smiled at each other on that platform, for what seemed like the first time in months, and the love was obvious again. No matter what happens with his recovery, whether he walks again or not, they'll be okay.

Cam stood over the body, also pulling gloves on her hands. "Now, Booth," she chastised, "you know there's too much flesh here for Dr. Brennan."

"Fine," he sighed, knowing his old friend was right. "What can you tell me?"

"Shot," Cam said bluntly.

Booth sighed. "Can you tell me something I don't know?"

From my position, I could tell Agent Booth was trying so hard to be patient with the people around him. It took a brave man to work successfully with that many personalities and not only had he found a way to work with them, he'd become friends with all of them.

"Four times," Cam continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "Three in the chest. One in the neck."

"Based on the x-rays," Dr. Brennan interjected, pulling up the referenced photos, "the trajectory on the neck wound was downward."

Agent Booth looked up from his cards. "The shooter was taller? How did he shoot him in the neck?"

"Not taller. I think our victim was shot as he fell forward to his knees," Dr. Brennan said.

Pulling my attention from the people working above me, I let my eyes drift around the lab. I wasn't doing my job if I spent all of my time focusing on what was happening on the platform. More than just the core team worked on this floor and it was my job to take care of them all.

Off to my left, one employee accepted a delivery with a quick signature. She took the box with a smile and headed back to her office. I wondered if she'd be able to find it later. I'd never seen as office as disorganized as hers. As I made my rounds, a simple look inside her work area had the ability to make me cringe. I'd heard talk that she'd been spoken to several times about cleaning it up, but as of yet, that hadn't happened.

To my right, a young man and women appeared to be deep in conversation about something serious. Until he gave her a smile that hinted at other things, and she reached out to give his hand a quick squeeze before she walked away. It seemed another office romance was in the making.

Some of the employees are definitely better at hiding that sort of thing. Dr. Hodgins and his wife tried, but some of the areas they'd picked for their trysts weren't quite as camera free as they'd assumed. Some of my colleagues started making sure cameras suddenly malfunctioned, if they appeared in an out of the way place. Then they'd make casual comments about new cameras being installed, always within earshot.

Now, Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan were much better about that sort of thing. There was only that one time, but for some odd reason, the cameras malfunctioned that day, too.

Yes, we definitely take care of our own here.

I brought my attention back to the platform as Dr. Brennan descended the stairs, Agent Booth close behind her. I can see his fingers fiddling with something in his pocket and I know he is trying not to place his hand at the small of her back. It is those little touches that mean so much to those of us who watched the two of them circle each other for years. A simple press of a hand, a gentle touch can mean so much, if a person knows what they are looking for.

At the bottom of the stairs, Dr. Brennan stops and looks to her left, her eyes filling with tears. Quickly, she blinks them away, but not before Agent Booth sees them.

"You okay, Bones?" he asks gently.

She nods. "It's just…he was always here, you know? Always right here. I just came down the stairs and looked, and he wasn't there. I just forgot for a moment. I'll adjust."

I'm oddly touched by her tears. She shows so little emotion, despite the things she has seen. I wanted to reach out and touch her hand. To tell her I was still there, watching over her. Watching over all of them.

But I couldn't.

Maybe I should have told you that from the beginning.

Not only was it my job to protect the dead, it was also my job to protect the living.

I wasn't aware, never worried that my job would cost me so much. Still, when the moment came, I made my sacrifice willingly. If given the choice, I'd do it again, even knowing now how it would end.

You see, yesterday, someone made it into the Jeffersonian, in the lab area, with a weapon.

He shouldn't have. But there were breakdowns, mistakes, money had been exchanged. I'll never find out exactly how. I could stay, I suppose, but I don't intend to.

I was wearing my vest. But that third shot had hurt so damn much when it hit that I fell forward. It was as I fell that the fourth shot hit me. I wasn't the only one who was shot, I'm proud to say. I managed to shoot the assailant as well. Not quite as well as I'd hoped, he managed to run, but there was blood left behind. I was sure there was more than enough evidence that the team I'd watched for years would find my killer.

I make no apologies for shooting back. I only wish my aim had been a little truer.

Dr. Brennan made sure my body didn't leave the Jeffersonian. She held herself responsible for finding my killer. It wasn't her fault, and Agent Booth will make sure she knows that. The heart she hides from the world is definitely a secret weapon. If I could still cry, I'd weep for the respect she's showing me.

This time Booth doesn't hesitate to touch her, pulling her into an embrace, right there at the bottom of the stairs. "He did his job, Bones. I'm proud of him. I can't always be here to protect you. It's a relief to me there are others here who will."

Of course, I would. I did. She was in her office at the time. There was no way he was getting past me to get to her. I'd made a promise to myself that would never happen while I was on duty. I kept that promise.

The friends, partners, lovers, pull apart and head toward her office. With a last glance, I turn away and walk in the other direction. I could stay, wait to find out why someone wanted to kill Dr. Brennan, but I know it isn't my place anymore. Won't be again.

That's okay. On the other side of the door in front of me, there are other adventures. I'm ready.

Maybe, they'll have a job for a good security guard. My experience should speak for itself.


	2. Chapter 2

Wendell was in his office, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the Jeffersonian, when Clark walked into the room. Frantically, Wendell tried to click off what was on the screen of his computer, but was unable to before Clark came up behind him.

"What is this? What are you watching?" Clark asked, his voice portraying his rapidly escalating shock.

Giving up on shutting off the video playing in front of him, Wendell backed his chair up to allow Clark a better view. "Shhhhh," he whispered desperately. "Don't let them hear you. Go close the door. Have you ever seen this before?"

Clark managed to rip his attention from the screen long enough to follow the order. That simple direction complete, he fought the urge to run back to his previous position where he had a clear view of the screen. "No," he admitted after watching several more minutes. "Where did you ever find this? Is it part of a case you are reviewing?"

Shaking his head, Wendell couldn't pull his attention from the action in front of him. "A friend of mine was watching it last week. I almost fell over when I saw it. Can you believe it?"

"I'm looking right at it and I can't believe it. Do you think-" Clark started to ask, but found he was unable to give voice to the question that was right on the tip of his tongue.

With a click, Wendell paused the screen, capturing a clear shot of the image that continued to shock him, no matter how many times he saw it. And he had no intention of telling Clark, or anyone else for that matter, but it was the third time that morning he had watched that particular scene. "No, it couldn't be, right? Where would he ever find time to do something like this?"

"Maybe he has a twin he never talked about. Maybe he doesn't know because they were separated at birth." At a loss for any other explanation, Clark looked around the room for a spare chair.

"Over in the corner," Wendell said distractedly, continuing to stare at the screen. "Only folding chairs, sorry."

Not caring what the chair was made of at that point, Clark grabbed the desired item and sat so close to Wendell their shoulders were almost touching. "Hit play again. I want to see some more."

Any other time, Wendell might have been surprised at Clark's level of enthusiasm. However, given the nature of the what they were seeing, Wendell could understand the emotion. Without a word, Wendell brought the screen to life again and the men stared without words or movement.

Outside, Daisy knocked on the door a second time and when Wendell didn't respond, opened the door cautiously. She knew he was in there; noise was clear from behind the door.

"Wendell?" she asked quietly, "are you okay?"

Pushing the door a little wider, she was surprised to see not only Wendell, but Clark as well. Both men were intensely watching something on the screen in front of them.

"That's not porn, is it?" she demanded. With angry steps, she crossed the room to stand in front of the desk.

Wendell looked up in shock, having not heard her enter the room. "No," he said quickly, his face turning red in embarrassment. "Of course, it's not porn. Why would I be watching porn with Clark?"

Looking shocked at the question, Clark stood. "Don't be ridiculous, Daisy," he said. "This is my place of work."

Chagrined, Daisy took a step back. "Well, the door was closed, and you guys were staring so intently at the screen."

Sighing, Wendell motioned at the door. "Close it, and I'll show you what we were watching."

Not sure she wanted to know, Daisy hesitated a long moment, before going to close the door and rejoining the men on the other side of the desk.

"Rewind it," Clark said. "To that one part."

Knowing what he was referring to, Wendell manipulated the video to the requested location. "Watch carefully," he said to Daisy as he restarted it.

"Oh. My. Goodness." Reaching over, she pulled Clark's empty chair toward her. "How has he ever managed to keep this a secret?"

"Do you really think it's him?" Wendell asked. With a shake of his head, Clark grabbed a second chair. In seconds, the three of them were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

"It has to be," Daisy said. "Look at the posture and the gait as he crosses the room. It has to be him."

Shifting her attention from the screen, Daisy scanned the desk. "Is there only one episode? Do you have the case the DVD came in?"

Wendell moved a pile of papers and handed her the case. "It's just one season. At least, that's all my friend had. I can only borrow it for the week."

"Make a copy," Clark demanded. "Or go and buy your own. There is no way we can lose this."

"It's out of print," Wendell explained. Did Clark really think those options hadn't occurred to him? "And the DVD is copy protected."

"Ask Angela," Daisy ordered. "Just don't tell her why you want it."

"As if that would work," Clark scoffed.

"And there's another problem," Wendell said. Removing the first disc, he inserted a second into the computer. "Pay attention."

Two sets of eyes stared at the screen. Within moments, their mouths fell open in shock.

"No way," Clark hissed. "Ir's not just-"

"Nope," Wendell said. "It's both of them."

"We have to do some research," Daisy decided. "I'm sure we can figure this out. Dr. B. hired us because we were and are the smartest. We can use our skills to figure this out."

"What do you think I've been doing down here?" Wendell demanded. "There is no information that I can find. All the websites list just the basic information. The actors are credited, but the names don't match."

Clark sighed, surprised to find himself a little disappointed. "Then it can't be them, right? If the names don't match."

Daisy shook her head. "It still could be. Lots of actors change their names. John Wayne's real name was Marion Morrison."

Shifting, Wendell shot the intern a look. "How do you know that?"

"I know lots of facts, just like the rest of you," Daisy replied. She'd pulled her shoulders back a little straighter, frustrated she had to remind them she was just as smart as they were. "I'm just saying that the actors might have changed their names. The show was only on for one season?"

Wendell nodded. "That's all I could find. One and done. Too bad. It's kind of amusing."

All three were sucked back into the video within minutes, not hearing the door open. Booth walked in, amused to find all three staring in rapt attention at the screen. With silent steps, he crossed the room.

"What's up guys?" he asked casually, grabbing the case from Wendell's desk.

In panic mode, Wendell frantically tried to stop the video, knowing it was already too late. Clark tried to escape, only to freeze when Booth stared at him. Daisy, her face turning red, began to study her shoes.

With a chuckle, Booth flipped the case over, reading the back. "I haven't seen one of these in years. Where did you find it?"

Clark wasted no time. "Wendell had it." And was immediately thankful looks didn't have the power to kill.

"You've seen this before?" Daisy asked, curiosity winning out over embarrassment.

"Of course," Booth said. With a flick of the wrist, Booth tossed the case back to Wendell. "Do you know how many people I've had come up to me and ask if I starred in that crazy show?"

"So it's not you?" Wendell asked, leaning back in the chair. He wasn't sure whether to believe Booth or not.

"Not me," Booth said. "Not really into the whole acting thing."

"You could be acting now," Daisy pointed out.

Booth shrugged. "I could be, but I'm not. Now, I don't think Bones would be real happy to see her interns wasting time watching videos."

"I'm not her intern," Clark grumbled as he headed toward the door. Even if he wasn't, he still didn't want the reprimand from Dr. Brennan.

Wendell stared at his retreating back for a moment, before turning back to Booth. "Did you need something?" he asked, ejecting the video. After he'd closed the case, Booth reached forward and took it from his hand.

"I'll just take this so you don't get into any more trouble."

Realizing it was futile to try and get it back, Wendell wondered what he was going to tell his friend. It wasn't like he could complain the computer ate it.

"Now," Booth said, flicking his eyes between Daisy and Wendell, "I have a couple of questions about an old case."

OoOoOo

"Did you see your interns today?" Booth asked Bones as he was getting ready for bed.

"I saw Daisy," she said putting down her journal. "And I think Wendell was in today."

"They, along with Clark, were in Wendell's office watching a video when I saw them."

Brennan tilted her head. "Watching a video of what?" She knew her husband well enough to know something was up.

"This," he said, tossing the case at her.

She snatched it out of the air and immediately started to laugh. "I didn't know you could still get this. What did you tell them?"

"That it wasn't me, of course," he said. Retrieving the case, he inserted the video into the DVD player in the room. "What was I supposed to say? That in order to make some extra money in college, I starred in a really bad television show involving vampires?"

"And the part with Dr. Hodgins?" she asked.

"They didn't mention that, but I'm sure they saw it. Good thing we didn't use our real names at the time. Makes it much easier to lie about it now."

"I should reprimand you for lying to my interns," she said, "but I understand why you did it." As Booth joined her in bed, she snuggled up next to him. "Are we going to watch it?"

"Definitely," he said with a smile. "I think you should get a chance to see what a talented man you married."

"And after the movie, you can show me all the other ways you are talented."

Booth pressed play on the remote. "Sounds like it's going to be a fun evening, Bones."

 _ **A/N: I had this image in my head of the interns finding a copy of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I've changed the facts about the show to fit the story. For the purposes of this story only BtVS was only one season and Hodgins appeared briefly in it, as opposed to his appearance in Angel. Hope you don't mind.**_


	3. Chapter 3

When the phone rang before dawn, Wendell Bray barely reacted. It wasn't his week to be available to the Jeffersonian, and the person he was closest to in the world was sleeping in the bed next to him. So rather than answer the phone in a panic, Wendell rolled over and went back to sleep.

The second time it rang, he pulled the pillow over his head and tried to ignore it. When the ringing began a third time, Wendell finally decided it might be something serious and reached for the phone. His annoyance grew when he read the caller id.

"Why-" he began, only to be interrupted by hysterical wailing.

"You have to come over," Daisy managed to utter between sobs. "There's…its…he's dead."

Rubbing his eyes, Wendell managed to swallow the sarcastic retort. "Who's dead Daisy?" he asked impatiently.

"He's dead," she said again, breaking down into sobs. Her level of reaction was starting to scare Wendell just a little and he sat up in bed.

"Who's dead?" he asked, searching with his free hand for a pair of pants. "Is someone dead inside your apartment? Where's the baby?"

"The…baby…is fine. But I need you to come help me. Please, Wendell. You live so close." Her voice was watery, pleading for help. Wendell found his fellow intern annoying most of the time, but there was no way he could ignore a plea from a woman in need.

"If someone is dead in your house, you need to call the police. Call Agent Booth. He lives close, too." Wendell set the phone down when Daisy began to cry in ernest again, searching desperately for a shirt. He was tempted to call Agent Booth himself, but hesitated to wake him up when he wasn't sure what was going on himself.

After pulling on the shirt, Wendell picked up the phone again. "Daisy. Daisy. I need you to calm down. You need to call the police. Did someone break in?"

"Of course, he broke in!" Daisy cried. "I didn't open the door and just let him in. He's filthy and ugly. You have to come."

"Daisy," Wendell repeated, trying to keep his voice low and calm. Getting excited wasn't going to help the situation. You really need to call the police."

"Who needs to call the police?" Andie asked groggily. She rolled over in bed and focused sleepy eyes on Wendell. "Where are you going?"

Having finally donned enough clothes to leave the house, Wendell picked the phone back up. "I'm coming," he said curtly, before hanging up on the insistence wailing from the other end.

"Was that Daisy?" And asked, slightly more awake. "Was she screaming?"

"Crying," Wendell said. Bending over, he gave Andie an affectionate kiss on the cheek. "Apparently, there's a dead body in her house."

Andie blinked at him for several seconds before getting out of bed herself. "Wait for me, I'm coming with you."

"No," Wendell argued. "You aren't. If there's a dead body in her house, it could be dangerous for you."

"Nonsense," she argued, getting dressed much faster than Wendell had. "The guy is already dead. What danger could there be?" Pulling her hair back, in a loose ponytail, she faced her boyfriend. "I'm ready. I'll drive so you can call Agent Booth."

"It's two-thirty in the morning," Wendell said, following Andie out of the bedroom. "I'd hate to wake him for nothing." He'd already given up on leaving Andie behind. Besides, she might come in useful. Better she had to deal with an irrational Daisy than him.

"Exactly," Andie said. "Anything that happens at this time of day, it can't be good." She paused for a moment, her hand in the process of grabbing her keys. "Do you think she's acting strange? I mean, the woman sees dead bodies all the time considering her line of work. Isn't it a little weird she'd act like a hysterical female when she saw this one."

Already annoyed to be up at that hour, Wendell shrugged. "Maybe it's different when you find one in your house. Or cause one to appear in your house. Come on. Let's see what's going on. It could be a long night."

Wendell woke a clearly annoyed Booth and told him what was going on. Booth didn't give more than one word answers in response, but did indicate he was on his way before the phone went dead. Knowing Dr. Brennan, she'd call her father and also be on her way not long after her husband.

"Is he coming?" Andie asked, risking a brief glance at Wendell. She was driving enough over the speed limit that if they passed a cop, it would take even longer to get to Daisy's house.

"I think so," Wendell said, tossing the phone into the console between them. "He doesn't speak much when you wake him up." Wendell grimaced and stared out the windshield. "Do you think Daisy killed the guy after he broke in?"

"I would," Andie said plainly. "Especially if I had a child to protect."

"Yeah," Wendell agreed, rubbing a palm over his face, then through sleep styled hair. "I'd probably do the same. But I didn't even know Daisy had a weapon."

The pair in the car lapsed into silence, each lost in individual, but very similar thoughts. Miles dragged like hours, and Wendell tapped his foot nervously, wishing Andie would drive just a little bit faster.

"We'll be there in a second," she said with a smile that was supposed to be reassuring, but just made Wendell more nervous. What would they find when they arrived? Would Daisy be arrested? Who would take care of the baby?

"She won't be arrested," Andie said quietly. "And if she is, we'll take the baby."

Wendell's head whipped toward her. "Did I say that aloud?"

Andie nodded as she turned on the signal. Headlights were coming from the opposite direction, and Agent Booth pulled in behind them.

"Wait in the car," he said curtly to Andie, pulling his weapon from the vehicle.

Opening her mouth to argue, she closed it quickly after glancing at Booth and the gun he carried. Motioning to Wendell, she leaned back against the car. As soon as it was safe, she would follow the men into the house.

Before either made it up the steps, the door was opened by a clearly upset Daisy. Her eyes were red rimmed with tears and she held her son in her arms.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said, before further words were stopped by a gasp as Booth pulled the two of them out the door.

"Go wait by Andie," he ordered, edging around Daisy with his gun ready.

Expression going from upset to bemused, Daisy stared at the backs of the men entering her home. "Agent Booth? Why do you have a gun?"

"Andie," Booth said, his voice a clear warning to follow the direction, as he entered the home.

Wendell pointed at his girlfriend and slowly Daisy walked down the steps and toward the indicated direction.

"Are you okay," Andie asked, reaching forward to take the yawning child from her arms. "Don't worry about a thing, Daisy. Agent Booth will make sure everything is okay."

Daisy looked away from Andie, toward the house, and back again. "Why did Agent Booth have a gun?"

Concerned Daisy was in some sort of shock, Andie opened the passenger door to the car. "Sit here and stay calm, Daisy. Everything will be okay."

"I don't need to sit," Daisy snapped. The tears were rapidly drying on her cheeks as she tried to make sense of why Agent Booth had shown up at her house with his gun drawn. "Why did Wendell call Agent Booth?"

"Daisy," Andie said slowly, "you called in the middle of the night and said there was a dead body in your house. Why wouldn't he call Agent Booth?" As she finished the second sentence, Andie was fascinated to watch a look of horror appear on Daisy's face.

"Oh, no," Daisy whispered, "I think there's been a mis-"

"Daisy," Booth bellowed, reappearing in the door. "Where is the dead body?"

Heaving a large sigh, Daisy retrieved her son from Andie's arms. "I think you better stay with me, big guy. Agent Booth won't yell as much if I'm holding the child named for him. At least, I think he won't."

Walking as if she was facing a firing squad, Daisy trudged back toward her home, Andie close at her heels. Moments later, she squared her shoulders and faced Agent Booth. "It's in the bathroom."

Glaring, Booth shook his head. "There is no dead body in the bathroom, Daisy."

"There is," she insisted. "Just not the one you're expecting."

Leading the train of colleagues and friends like the Pied Piper, Daisy arrived at the bathroom and pointed into the corner. "I had to go the bathroom and saw it. I hate them."

Four sets of eyes stared at the corner, until, finally, Wendell swallowed audibly. "It's a dead mouse, Daisy. You see dead bodies all the time. This is just a dead mouse."

Lifting her chin, Daisy faced down three incredulous stares. "A dead mouse is not a dead person. And I hate mice. Dead or alive. Lance used to take care of them for me." With a shrug, she bent her head and kissed the child now sleeping in her arms. "It's the first I've seen since he died." Picking her head up, she looked up to see softer expressions on everyone's face. "Sorry I freaked," she apologized.

"I'll take care of the mouse," Booth offered, holstering the gun. "Do you have a bag?"

Daisy nodded. "In the cupboard under the sink."

"I'll get it," Wendell offered.

Looking at Daisy and the child asleep in her arms, Booth fought the sudden urge to smile. "Go put him back to bed," Booth said. "We'll make sure this is gone when you come back."

"I'll go with you," Andie said, looking at Wendell as he returned with the bag. "Then I'll meet you at the car."

The two women disappeared down the hall as Booth used the bag to retrieve the dead body from the floor. With quick movements, he tied the bag securely, before handing it to Wendell.

Bemused, Wendell took the bag and looked at Booth. "She called you to get rid of it," Booth explained. Leaning against the counter, Booth crossed his arms over his chest. "Was she really as upset as she sounded?"

Wendell snorted. "Terrified. I've never heard her sound like that. Maybe I'll bring some traps or something tomorrow and hide them around the house where she can't see them. I'd hate for this to happen again."

Clapping Wendell on the shoulder, Booth laughed. "Might save you from another late night."

Before long, Daisy and Andie reappeared. With more apologies and embarrassed laughs, Daisy ushered them out of her house and toward their car, leaving just her and Booth behind.

"Agent Booth," she started, but lapsed back into silence when he shook his head.

"You went to Maluku with Dr. Brennan. Kept her company when I couldn't. Consider this a thank you."

Stunned into silence, Daisy watched him walk toward the door, only to have him turn around again. "But if you ever do this again, it better be a real dead body, Daisy." His final warning given, Booth closed the door gently, but firmly, behind him.

 _A/N: I'm really busy at work and wanted to get this posted since it was finished. I didn't take much time to proofread, however, so please forgive any mistakes._

 _This story is based on my personal feelings about mice. Daisy's reaction, unfortunately, is not much different than mine when I encounter one, dead or alive._

 _Thanks for reading._


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